A Matter Best Kept to Ourselves [Feliks and Ivan]

Feliks perched on the counter in the dorm's kitchen, his usual glass of clear liquid in his hands. Anyone who didn't know the boy would simply think it was water, and that he was just trying to cure his dehydration.

Anyone who DID know would assume that it was vodka. They would be the correct ones.

He took a sip, revelling in the smooth burn as it trickled down his throat. People tended to think he was a light-weight that only drank cocktails (due to his cross-dressing), but he could actually hold more than most people his age could, he rarely got a hang-over (but when he did, watch out), and had never lost a drinking contest.

He was a bit different than people tended to believe.

Ivan was walking past the door to the kitchen, when a familiar smell caught his attention, and he stopped in his tracks. (That's right, Ivan can smell vodka.) He pushed the door open and saw the back of his cousin. "Pol'ska~ You have vodka, da~? Share with your cousin now~"

Feliks jumped, almost dropping the glass, and whirled around to face his cousin. "You can't have any of this, Ivan... it's mine." He took a sip, keeping an eagle-eyed watch on his cousin over the rim of the glass. "If you wanna get drunk and harras something, go get your own fucking vodka, alright?"

He gripped the glass tightly, ready to smash it over someone's head if they tried to start something.

"That is very rude, Pol'ska~" Ivan started walking closer, watching his cousin carefully. Tendrils of the vodka's scent caressed his nostrils, and he took deep breaths through his nose to smell more. "You ought to share with your dear cousin. Sharing is good, da, and I am family, after all~"

"Like I give a shit if you're my cousin? I wouldn't share with you if you were the fucking pope." He put his hands on his hips, glaring in annoyance. "So back the fuck off me, okay? I totally don't wanna deal with you or your alcoholic self today."

Ivan stepped closer to him and looked at the glass for a minute, before taking it out of his hand and knocking it back. He smiled sweetly at Feliks.

(SHORT POST OF DOOOM)

Feliks looked at his empty glass, then looked back at Ivan. "You are totally a little shit, you know that? Urgh... now I have to get a whole new glass of it!" He paused. "Though... I'm not going to drink anymore with you right here. You're like a dog... seriously."

Ivan chuckled and caught Feliks's wrist in an iron grip. "I would like it very much if you would pour me another one, da," he said, with an extra creepy smile.

(I would make this longer but I don't have time, sorry >.<)

"And why would I do anything YOU want me to do?" The Polish youth inquired, a look of intense frustration on his face. "I don't have to listen to your shit, kuzyn..." He wrenched his hand out of the larger Slavic's grasp, then rubbed the sore flesh, skin slightly reddened from the pressure.

"Ah, maybe because I am not giving you a choice?" The Russian stepped close enough for Feliks to smell his breath, and pushed the empty glass into Feliks's hand. His eyes glinted as he towered over his cousin, knowing he could do almost anything he wanted. Almost anything? Anything at all.

"I don't care what you're giving me, I'm NOT going to do whatever you want! I totally don't care HOW much of a fucking bully you are!" Feliks threw the glass down on the ground, the clear crystal-like glass shattering.

Ivan gripped his shoulder, and stared intently into his eyes, a shadow falling over his face. "Ah, niet," he said, cheerfully as ever, "you will do as I say, da. And you will start by cleaning that up. Otherwise you will need punishment."

The blonde scoffed. "Punishment? Right. Whatever. I'm going now." He turned on his heel and kicked open the door, not in the mood to deal with his cousin.

Ivan grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. "I am not in the mood to be ignored, cousin... Now clean it up..."

Feliks' eyes widened in pain as his back slammed against the wall of the kitchen. "Ack!" He cried out, wincing. "What the fuck?"

"You heard me, da~" Ivan said quietly, his eyes drifting over the other's face and resting for a few long moments on Feliks's lips.

"I-I don't know what in the flying fuck your problem is, but you need to let me go! I swear to God, I will scream for help and they'll have you down on your knees before you can even blink!" Feliks growled at him, his heart beating even faster as panic began to set in. His cousin had always been crazy... he was not comfortable with the way he was acting.

The Russian lent in close and murmured into his ear, "Who will?" Then he licked at the ear, and slipped his hand under Feliks's shirt, pressing his cold hands against his chest and rubbing his thumbs over his nipples.

Feliks shrunk away from the icy touch against his skin, his body shivering as the cold overtook him completely. He was shivering from fear and a low body temperature, a rising panic beginning to bubble up in the pit of his stomach.

"I-I'm not kidding... I will cause you total hell..."

"Ah... Niet you won't... We both know you will do anything I say..." the Russian murmured, and leant down to kiss Feliks's neck. He pinched his nipples, and nibbled and sucked gently at his neck. "Anything..."

"Hn..." Feliks scrunched his eyes shut, the warmth of his indignation clashing horribly with the freezing cold touch of his larger cousin, his teeth digging into his lower lip. "I'm not your f-fucking slave..."

Ivan looked up into his eyes. "Da you are. You cannot do anything to stop me, however much you would like to~"

"And what about what happenes when people find out what you've been fucking doing? You'll go to JAIL, cousin... and, like, nobody will fucking visit you." He hissed.

"Nobody will find out~ And you know I am much too rich to go to jail," he whispered conspiratorially. "Nobody cares what I do. I have gotten away with murder and worse, Feliks..."

"Worse? There's something worse than murder?" Feliks asked, trying to keep the fear from entering his shaking voice.